Impact
by SKSuncloud
Summary: After season 2 Stiles is feeling sort of lost and has been hanging out at the old Hale house a lot, except there's still the new alpha pack to deal with and now he's a liability, caught in the cross-hairs. Started as a head canon for season 3.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**- Here I go, writing another short fic when I'm supposed to be finishing one I've already started, but Teen Wolf has taken over my life and this is what I thought should happen for next season after finally seeing the finale of season 2.

* * *

**Impact**

* * *

Stiles was sitting on the floor in what he was pretty sure used to be the Hale's dining room bouncing a rubber ball off the wall.

Peter strolled down the stairs, firm in his resolve to keep his cool and remain collected even though the incessant pounding was inching him toward his last nerve. He located the source of the noise and leaned against the wall facing Stiles, the very picture of collectedness. Stiles inclined his head in greeting.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be?" Peter asked, forced kindness.

Stiles snorted and tossed the ball again. "You say that as if I might actually have anything better to do." He paused for a minute then clarified, "My dad's on duty. I don't like hanging around in an empty house."

"This house is usually pretty empty," Peter pointed out.

Stiles shrugged, "Yeah, but you're here."

Peter tried not to grimace. "Don't you have a best friend you could be cavorting with somewhere a little less… here? You know, like Scott McCall?"

Stiles held the ball for a half second, then sighed and tossed it again. "Scott's busy."

"He's been busy a lot lately?"

"Kinda…"

"Because you've been here every two days for the last month." Stiles didn't say anything, but he stopped tossing the ball. "Shouldn't you be out practicing Lacrosse? You made first line this year. I'd have thought you'd want to be in peak condition."

"We had practice this morning," he replied, then Stiles' eyes brightened, "You wanna practice with me?"

Peter scowled. "I don't play." Stiles shrugged like he'd known that was coming. "Seriously though, Stiles, you have to find something else to do somewhere else."

Stiles tossed the ball again and this time let it bounce away from him and didn't bother to retrieve it. "Sorry. I figured with just you and Derek lurking around this place I wouldn't have to…" he sighed, "… I could not have to act like I'm okay, you know? Like a break."

Peter watched him carefully. With the whole game changing again he'd been trying to keep tabs and come up with a battle strategy. He'd been keeping an eye on all the betas for Derek, and that had included Stiles.

To the naked eye Stiles appeared to have completely recovered from the trauma of their last stand against Gerard. He was smiling, cracking jokes, hanging out with Scott and being, frankly, a hyperactive loon, but to someone watching as carefully and astutely as Peter the cracks in his armor were becoming more and more obvious. The amount of time he spent devoted to time with his dad was dramatically more than the average teenager. Peter hadn't known him before, but he'd noticed the worry on Scott's face every time Stiles ditched their plans because his dad would be home early. He'd noticed the times when Stiles didn't think anyone was looking and let his smile fade out to complete blankness, or when he would drive his car out to where he thought no one could see and sit there with his forehead resting against the steering wheel and just breathe. That on top of all the time he spent in the Hale house was enough to determine a pattern.

Peter knelt down so he and Stiles were eye to eye. "I understand these things take time, but you just can't be _here_ right now. This place is kinda falling apart."

"Well it's not like I can just go to the train station or anything. My trail would lead anyone looking for you straight there."

"Okay, that's smart, and if it were just about the ball I would be completely fine with it." Stiles muttered a _sorry._ "It's okay. I'd pop the damn thing and let you mope around like a little grey raincloud till your heart's content. But the fact is, it's you being _here_ that's the problem. You see, we're currently in the middle of dealing with a large pack of alphas who have taken up territory nearby and are probably looking to attack." Stiles' eye went wide. "So you really just need to leave."

Stiles' jaw hung open. "You couldn't have maybe mentioned that sooner? Does Scott know?"

Peter shrugged, "Well if he doesn't he's oblivious, but then, it's Scott." They agreed on the point.

Stiles took a deep breath and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. I probably lead them to you."

"Probably. Actually they knew about this place to begin with."

Peter was standing again when Derek appeared in the closest doorway. He glanced at Stiles then back to Peter. "Get him out of here. We have company."

Stiles stood up, brushed himself off and glanced in the general direction of his truck just as there was a loud CRACK and a bang. Howls went up suddenly from every direction and the snarling and crashing sent shivers through the entire house. Stiles covered his head on instinct, ducking a board that had come loose. Immediately arms were around him, covering him, ushering him to the door.

"Goddammit!" the usher cursed. Stiles looked up to see Derek, wolf face on, one clawed hand out in front of them like a shield, eyes flashing red. He hurried Stiles through a hole in the wall toward the main door. Immediately they were stopped by a girl with long hair. She had the same wild red eyed glow Derek did and she didn't flinch when he let out an earth-shattering growl. Instead she grinned and ran her tongue across the front of her protruding teeth.

Stiles cursed colorfully and tucked closer to Derek when she sprang. He was immediately shoved out of the way, just in time to avoid a chest-full of claws which Derek caught and returned, keeping himself between Stiles and the alpha.

Stiles could see Peter locked in combat with another werewolf just down the hall, crashing through a support beam. There was another fight breaking out on the other side of the house, and yips and barks were becoming deafening. He backed himself up to the closest solid wall and tucked low, groping for something to use as defense.

Another wolf came in from the side, straight at him. This one was bigger, bald, and absolutely wild-eyed. He yelled and Derek barely managed to turn in time, catching the new wolf mid-leap and slamming him to the ground. In return he got a kick in the face from the first alpha. Stiles threw a chunk of loose wood at her and immediately regretted it when she turned to grin at him.

There were more howls outside.

"Get to your car!" Derek yelled, but then he leapt backward, pressing Stiles closer to the wall and caging him in. Another wolf appeared. This one was in full alpha mode, long black fur bristled as it hunched down, ready to spring at them. Derek roared and the female wolf laughed at him, then leapt to attack again. She managed to move him slightly and the bald wolf came in from the other side, catching Derek in the leg with its teeth. He screeched in pain and barely threw the first one off in time to fend off the second.

Stiles had just managed to fumble his phone out of his pocket and dial Scott as the fully changed alpha sprang. "We need you!" he yelled as Scott answered, but he didn't catch Scott's response before his phone was jostled from his hand.

Derek was grabbed by the fully formed alpha and thrown across the room. He hit the ground hard and immediately scrambled to chase back to where Stiles was now helpless.

"Stiles! Run!" he yelled as though it hadn't occurred to Stiles what a good idea that was. He never even got the chance.

Everything hit at the same time. He could feel his head bashed by one backhand that hit like a ton of bricks and his stomach tissue was ripped open by an opposite clawed hand at the same time. The female wolf was cooing, "Well aren't you adorable?" just as he hit the floor. He gasped for breath. Everything hurt. He clutched at his stomach, but his hand wouldn't fit the whole length of the cut. The searing pain left a sharp ringing in his ears and his eyes were fogging over, then his vision went black. He hoped the cut wasn't too deep…

Derek roaring was the last thing he heard clearly. There was a yelp and Stiles was vaguely aware of strong arms around him dragging him away from the open space he'd fallen into.

Stiles tried to look up at Derek's face, but it didn't come into focus before he blanked out.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- **I have to say, I'm flattered by the overwhelming response this fic got for it's first chapter, but I have to shake my finger at all you sadists who said how much you loved it because poor Stiles! You guys, he's gravely wounded! Do you have such faith in me that you think I'll save his life? ... I will... but please stick around to see that happen. Thank you all so SO much!

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**Impact**

* * *

Outside to Hale house guns were going off and there was more yelping and a howl. Scott took down two wolves outside, stopping to make sure one was definitely dead before he rushed inside. He was just in time to see Derek's shape change. His human features warped and shifted until a great black beast was bellowing in the entryway. Scott's instinct to cower and turn tail was almost too powerful to ignore.

Scott had been busy. He'd been studying, getting a leg up on his grades so he wouldn't be held back and would be able play Lacrosse again. What was better was that he'd been studying with Allison, way out in the woods in the back seat of her car. Of course, their kind of "study" meant he probably wouldn't be able to pass his midterms again, but whatever. In fact, he'd considered not bothering to answer when Stiles called him because this thing with Allison was just getting back to how it used to be and he didn't want to give it up, but he'd blown off his plans with Stiles for the day so he'd have felt guilty for ignoring him too, even if Allison's lip gloss tasted particularly delicious and even if her bra was one well aimed fumble away from coming off.

He was glad he hadn't let it go to voicemail. He was also grateful that the Argents were apparently already aware of the new wolf pack in town and Allison's dad had left to go after them with half their arsenal just a few minutes before the call.

Scott had known Stiles went to Derek's old house to be alone, he just didn't think he'd ever be in trouble there. Yes, he'd caught wind of the new wolf pack, but it was Derek's job to deal with that, wasn't it? It wasn't like that house had really been a target recently as far as Scott knew, and Stiles was clever, he'd been sure he'd be able to take care of himself, even without wolf powers.

He'd been wrong. Upon bursting into the house, the first thing he noticed after Derek's alpha form was his best friend lying on the floor and the pool of blood surrounding him. His heartbeat stopped in his chest, then he let out a roar to match Derek's. The other alphas were turning tail as the team of hunters burst in on the scene and Scott let his wolf features fade as he ran to his friend's side, ducking a swing of Derek's giant wolf paw which sent a female wolf flying.

"What did you do?" he screamed at Derek, but the wolf was chasing one of the lingering alphas to the upper level. Scott shook Stiles and turned him, then pressed his own hand down over his stomach to help stop the bleeding. "Stiles!"

Isaac came running from another room and dropped to his knees beside Scott. "What happened?"

"What the fu-! I don't know!" Scott yelled, hysterical. He was shaking his friend, asking if he could hear him, but Stiles' body remained limp.

There were a series of violent roars and growls from outside followed by more gunfire. Peter sauntered in from another part of the house, brushing himself off. "What happened? Where's Derek?"

"Freaking out," Isaac said, then he grabbed Scott's face to try to calm him down. There was a tearing through wood and they could hear Derek's roar within the house again. Peter darted off in the direction of the sound and Scott could barely focus on Isaac's voice over the fear of the blood running through his fingers and the pounding in his ears.

"No! No! Not Stiles! He can't die! He can't! Wake up!"

Isaac dug his nails into Scott's face and raised his voice, "We have to stop the bleeding. You have to try to help him. Relieve his pain, make him heal, remember? Focus!"

"I don't know how… I don't… I just barely learned anything!"

"We have to try something!" Isaac yelled back.

Allison rushed into the house. She gasped immediately and rushed to their side, bow clattering to the floor. "Oh my god, Stiles! We have to wake him up. Can he hear anything?" she tugged off her hoodie and brushed Scott's hand out of the way to use it to stopping up the bleeding.

"Stiles please stay with me, buddy!" he tried not to sob.

"You just have to focus," Isaac said.

Scott closed his eyes. "_Please be okay, please be okay," _he chanted in his head, a thick knot lodged in his throat. Stiles stirred in his arms suddenly, then convulsed and coughed up blood.

"Oh god. We have to get him out of here," Allison said, "Are the wolves gone?"

"Scott?" the word was choked through blood, but Scott smiled and nodded.

He stroked Stiles' face. "I'm gonna heal you, buddy. You're gonna be okay," he said, sure he was crying now.

"He's not healing fast enough," Isaac said as Stiles choked up blood again. "He's gonna bleed out."

"I don't have the power. I can't do this!" Scott stuttered. Stiles' eyes were having trouble focusing on his.

Immediately they were being shoved out of the way. Derek moved in, kneeling to hover over Stiles body. "Give him to me. I can do it! What do I have to do?" he asked urgently.

"What do you think you're doing?" Scott bellowed, teeth out, ready to fight Derek off.

Derek looked up at him, challenging him with a single glance. "I'm stronger. I have more power. I can save him. Tell me what to do!"

Stiles' eyes had started to roll in his head. His hand reached out and knit itself into Derek's shirt, torn to ribbons from the fight, and he moaned Scott's name again.

Scott took a breath and tried not to tremble. "You have to heal him. You have to focus on taking away his pain and maybe, like, I don't know how this works! Give him some of your healing. Try to make him better. Make the bleeding stop."

Derek nodded and repositioned himself on the floor. He lifted Stiles slightly into his arms, pressing hard on the sweatshirt that was soaking through with his blood. He placed his other hand around Stiles' neck and closed his eyes. Stiles' eyes finally rolled shut and the nearly limp body curled into him. He focused on healing the wounded skin, on calming down the shock. He hadn't expected it to be so painful, but he ground his teeth and focused on keeping Stiles alive.

"Oh my god I think it's working," Allison gasped. "I'm starting my car. We have to get him to the hospital."

"No!" Derek said sharply. They all paused and stared at him, but he kept his eyes closed while he reached into his pocket. "Take mine. It's faster." He tossed the keys to Allison and she sprinted out.

"I can carry him," Scott volunteered, but Derek growled at him and shifted Stiles so he was less awkward in his arms.

"I've got him."

Derek lifted him and hoisted himself to his feet, Stiles was still clinging to his shredded shirt, his breathing ragged, but there.

Derek vaguely registered the shambles his house was in, worse now than ever before, and he barely caught Peter's eye as he rushed down the porch and slid into the door Allison had opened for him to the backseat of his own car. "My family's chased the rest of them off. Let's go!" She yelled.

He tried to keep focused on the body in his arms. On making sure Stiles' heartbeat kept going and the remainder of his blood stayed in his own body. The smell was so strong.

Stiles kept shuddering as they tore off down the road. Scott was leaning over the front seat to keep an eye on them. Derek couldn't believe how tiny the body felt in his arms. Stiles wasn't tiny, not really at all. He was a good average size for a boy his age and more filled out than some, but the way his hands clung desperately to Derek and how his heart barely fluttered with life just made him feel so small. Derek leaned his head down against Stiles' shoulder and focused harder. He was beginning to feel dizzy and weak.

"Is he still with us?" Allison asked, frantically. They were stopped at a sign and she whipped her head back to check before powering on down the road.

"Barely," Scott replied. He kept reaching out like he wanted to touch Stiles' head but decided against it. He kept wiping his cheeks on the back of the seat.

By the time they got to the hospital the blood was no longer soaking through the hoodie. Derek felt lightheaded. Scott opened the door for him and Derek gave him a firm look. He shoved Stiles into his friend's arms. "I can't go in there."

Scott nodded, readjusting Stiles body in his arms and glancing at Allison who tore after him into the hospital, tossing the keys to Derek as she went.

Derek stood beside the car for a moment, trying to catch his breath, listening for the three heartbeats to make sure the softest one was still there, then he shut the doors of his car, slid into the driver's seat, and went to park the car in the hospital parking garage.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**- Aww! You guys are so sweet! Thank you for all the great comments! Hope you continue to enjoy!

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**Impact**

* * *

Stiles opened his eyes the next day in the mid morning. It hadn't been fifteen minutes after Allison and Scott had burst through the doors with him before his dad was there, immediately undergoing tests to make sure his blood was a compatible match and making the donation.

Stiles had had his first blood transfusion that evening. He'd been stitched up and checked for brain trauma, which they were still keeping an eye on him for. Mr. Stilinski hadn't left his side all night, clinging to his hand and almost wishing he'd never stopped going to church so he'd have something to fall back on.

When Stiles woke up he could smell stale coffee and ran his eyes up and down the tubes and machines he was hooked up to. He glanced around vaguely but couldn't focus enough to say anything. It was several seconds before his dad noticed he was up and almost fell into a fit of hysterics welcoming his son back. Stiles smiled at him as he called for a nurse.

"Sorry to worry you," he croaked, then fell under again.

When he woke for the second time, a few minutes later, a doctor was standing in the room and a nurse was doing something with his arm. He could see his dad's grave face flood over with relief again and he smiled up at him. Scott was there, grabbing his hand.

He could see Allison in the room too, telling him how worried they'd all been, and Lydia was there as well, looking over from the foot of the bed. He hoped he looked alright. He hoped he looked tough even in a hospital gown and maybe she'd come over and kiss him better.

His dad was close now and stroked his head. "Hey buddy."

"I'm sorry I had everybody worried." Stiles tried to sit up. That quickly ended in lying back down again. He smiled and tried to laugh off the wave of nausea.

"No!" his dad said sternly, putting a hand gently on his chest to hold him down. "We're happy you're alive. I was so scared." He leaned in and hugged his son tightly, then more gently when Stiles groaned.

"What happened?" Stiles asked, then answered for himself, _"I got attacked by some wolves. No big deal."_ "Where's Derek?" he asked. Everyone glanced between themselves, but didn't answer.

The doctor immediately ran some tests, mostly to see if his memory was still intact. Everything he said seemed to be right, since there was a lot of nodding. Things were becoming clearer and sounds were less muffled. Apparently he'd had rather a lot of stitches and would be sporting what he was assured would be a very sexy scar.

Mr. Stilinski finally moved over and Scott leaned in and wrapped his arms around Stiles' neck. "I'm so happy you're alive," he whispered into his shoulder. Stiles lifted the hand that wasn't attached to tubing and placed it on Scott's back.

"Me too."

A few hours later Mrs. McCall came in to hug Stiles and she managed to convince Mr. Stilinski to go get something to eat once Stiles was declared stable and had his second transfusion. When he was alone with Scott, Allison, and Lydia, Stiles asked, "So what happened?"

"You were attacked by the alpha pack," Allison told him.

He used the remote control on the bed to put himself in a sitting position and immediately wished he hadn't done that. Lydia took the control from him and laid him back down. "I remember that part," he assured them. "Vividly. I know I shouldn't have been there. Derek would have been fine without me. Where is he? How'd I…?"

Scott's eyes dropped to the ground. "Actually, it was Derek who saved you," he admitted.

"How? With like, wolf magic or something? Cause I literally remember bleeding out."

Scott shrugged. "Kinda. Something like that."

Stiles frowned. "Also I remember you crying." Scott shot him a glare and he grinned back. "Really? There's wolf magic?"

Allison leaned forward. "This is important Stiles, we have to know… Did you get bitten?"

He thought about it. There were flashes of nails and smiles and Derek pinning him to the wall, but he'd been looking in the alpha's eye when he'd been hit. She hadn't bitten him then, if she'd bitten him at all. "Not that I know of."

Scott smiled. "Good. We didn't think so either, the doctors said you weren't, but sometimes they miss things." Allison and Lydia shared relieved glances.

"Derek saved me?" Stiles asked again.

"Yeah, I guess he kinda did," Scott answered.

Stiles scanned between them for any sign that that wasn't true. After a minute he smiled, genuinely and said, "Cool! Derek's got wolf magic. I guess we can keep him then."

* * *

From outside in the parking lot Derek smiled. He'd long since discontinued his death grip on the steering wheel and now had blood flow back to his fingers, but he'd remained sitting, listening carefully for any other news. Stiles was awake. He was alive and hadn't been bit. He couldn't stop himself from grinning. He really _had_ saved Stiles' life, and it was with something he hadn't even known about—that strong feeling of completely taking away Stiles' pain and replacing it with his own strength. He stared down at his hands, then leaned his head against the steering wheel and blinked hard. After a few minutes his breath felt more stable. He turned on his car and backed out of the parking garage, grinning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Impact**

* * *

It took three days for Stiles to be discharged from the hospital. Immediately he was excused from school for a week, which was great except for the part where he was not only ordered to bed-rest for the entire week, but basically imprisoned in his own room to make sure of it.

The first day back he'd decided to roll out of bed and stumble downstairs for a bowl of cereal, but the freak out from his father had made that not worth attempting again.

Mr. Stilinski had taken time off work that they really couldn't afford to be with him and take care of him and get him anything he wanted. He'd even sat outside the bathroom door asking Stiles if he needed anything every two minutes while he attempted the laborious process of giving himself a sponge bath. The television from downstairs had been dragged up into his room and hooked up, but after a day he'd started actually beginning to understand the dynamics of Project Runway and they'd both decided he needed something else to do.

Scott came over every day after school, and usually he stayed as late as he could, catching Stiles up on what was going on with Lacrosse and Lydia and classes and getting Stiles to help him with homework. Mrs. McCall even came over on the one day Stiles' dad couldn't get off and she brought Stiles' favorite kind of pizza, although they discovered it was still difficult for him to keep anything solid down.

By four days in lockdown he'd watched through the entire extended addition of The Lord of the Rings in one sitting before beginning to worry about bedsores. He then made himself sit in different positions for each part of a complete Star Wars marathon, read a large stack of new comics Scott had brought for him, and surfed the internet for any mention of wolf healing abilities, though nothing came up. He napped so frequently he couldn't sleep through the night, and finally he began to wonder if Derek was ever going to come over and see him.

At the end of the fifth day he simply couldn't entertain himself anymore. He waited until his dad had drifted off in the chair beside his bed before leaving a very apologetic note on the pillow and hurrying out to his car.

It turned out it was a lot harder to drive than he'd suspected. Not only did he seem to tire out incredibly quickly—even with what had seemed like an excessive amount of blood transfusions and bed rest—but he hadn't expected his stomach stitches to pull so much at every single little movement he made. Driving down the dirt road was like torture. He kept having to slow down for bright spots in his eyes to clear.

When he pulled up outside the Hale house he wondered if he'd made a serious error in judgment. Derek was there alright, standing on what was left of the front porch, arms crossed across his chest, staring him down. Scott turned off the engine and slid out of his car, gingerly hitting the ground and groaning from sheer relief against the pain. He straightened up and managed to get the first word in.

"I know this is exactly how I lead them here last time and I shouldn't have come—" he started.

"I could smell you coming a mile away." Derek said, sourly. "And no, you shouldn't have come."

Stiles held up a hand, "Just let me explain…"

"You're still hurt."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Yeah, pretty badly too. But… I'm alive." He raised his arms at the elbow, triumphantly, and waited for Derek to make a movement. He didn't see when Derek's cheek twitched.

"You need to go."

"I heard you saved me."

Derek was quiet for a moment, then let his arms hang down at his side. "I was just trying to help."

"Thank you," Stiles replied, smiling at him. "That's what I came here to say. Whatever you did, it worked. So… thanks. That's all I wanted to say. Just thanks. I just… I noticed you didn't hang around and didn't come to see me while I was being forced to take it easy, so I had to haul my ass out here..."

"You should still be in bed. You'll pull your stitches out."

"Yeah, but I'm here already…."

Derek sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're welcome."

Stiles shifted from one foot to the other. He hadn't exactly planned this far, he'd mostly just needed an excuse to get away from his own bedroom. "So… can we hug it out?"

There was a long pause, then Derek said, "No." He turned around to go back into the house. Stiles took a step forward to follow him and was shocked by just how much pain that unleashed. He wouldn't be surprised if some of his skin had split open again from all the recent movement. How long did it take skin to heal anyway?

He didn't make a sound and tried not to cringe, but immediately Derek turned back, lips slightly parted. Stiles took advantage of the moment and held out both arms. "Come on, just give me a welcome-back-from-the-dead-hug. Everybody's doing it."

"I guess you're definitely not a werewolf," Derek said, eyes fixed on Stiles' stomach.

"Guess not. We can be friends though, right?"

After another awkwardly long pause in which Stiles composed himself, Derek sighed. Stiles' face lit up and he made to step toward the porch, but Derek quickly moved forward, "Just stay there, okay? Stop moving around."

Stiles flashed his best, _"I'm too lovable to refuse!"_ face and went in for the hug the second Derek was close enough.

It was definitely going to start as a manly bro-pat with a little extra chest bump, but Stiles' blood cells still hadn't replenished and he was lightheaded, in pain, and tired. It ended up being easier to just collapse into the alpha's chest and hold on.

Derek stood awkwardly, barely even raising his arms in semblance of a hug, but Stiles pressed his face against Derek's shoulder and clung to his clothes.

"Thank you so much," he whispered. "I know I'm not as strong as you guys, but living is kind of a high priority for me and you saved me so, just… thanks. I appreciate it." Derek didn't move. Stiles pulled away after a second. "Also thanks for not kicking me out before. You should have. I mean, not dying really is kinda important to me, so next time you might wanna just…" he jerked his thumb to indicate being kicked out. Derek nodded that he'd understood. Stiles' eyes were wet and he had a strong urge to reach down and dry them. "I just do really stupid things sometimes and… I'm really glad I'm still alive… thanks to you."

"Anytime," Derek replied softly. Stiles smiled and laughed to give himself an excuse to wipe his eyes. "I'll drive you home."

"Nah, it's okay. I can…"

"It'd be better if you didn't. We'll take your car and I'll walk back," Derek said, holding his hands out for Stiles' keys.

Stiles hesitated, then handed them to him. Derek walked around to open the passenger side of the door for him. "So, we're totally friends now, right?"

"Just get in," Derek said, waiting till Stiles had accomplished the task before shutting the door on him and walking around to climb into the driver's seat.

He climbed in and turned to Stiles immediately. "And try not to get yourself killed, okay? Just stay out of trouble," he said, raising his voice a bit louder than he'd meant to.

"Got it," Stiles gave a tiny salute.

"Because I'm not always going to be around to protect you."

"I understand."

"You have to be more careful."

"Okay."

"And if you're sad and depressed you should talk to people about it. You shouldn't just hole up way out here where it's not safe."

"Okay."

"Because I don't know if I can do the same thing again. I don't even know how I did it last time so if you get hurt again…"

"Okay."

"…I might not be able to save you. So you have to stay safe."

"I get it."

"Promise me!"

Stiles reached out and laid his hand on Derek's forearm. The touch sent a pulse through Derek's body. "Hey, Derek, I get it. I promise. I'll be more careful."

Derek took a breath. "Okay." He started the car.

"So we are friends, right? Crazy mutant healing bond and all that…?"

Derek rolled his eyes and turned the car back toward the road. "Fine." He chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.


	5. Chapter 5

**Impact**

* * *

Scott noticed it right away. When Stiles was back in school the next Monday Derek's scent was all over him. Stiles had just responded with, "He saved my life, man," but as the week pressed on into two weeks he noticed that Stiles was no longer so antsy or disappointed when he asked if he could blow off their plans so he could spend time with Allison and that the scent kept lingering. Or was it getting stronger?

"Why does your room smell like Derek?" he asked finally, setting his things down at the foot of Stiles' bed after school.

Stiles turned around to look at him, frowning. "What?"

"Has Derek been here?"

"Yeah, he's been coming by, helping me with homework or whatever. The guy's smart, you know. Smarter than he looks. Obviously not as smart as me, but he has a passing intelligence."

Scott sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes. "I'm your best friend, Stiles. What's he really been coming over here for?"

Stiles shot him a look like he was crazy. "Homework," he enunciated. "Seriously, he's just hanging out. Why's it matter?"

"Because you guys never hang out. Derek never hangs out with anybody."

"Well, now we do. Come on," he tossed Scott a controller. The TV was still in his room and he was using it to full advantage. "Video games. Bro time."

"Is he like… a friend?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'm not replacing you, buddy. I just… he thought it would be better for him to come here than for me to going over there all the time. Don't worry. You're still my top amigo. Numero uno. You are my favorite werewolf."

"Alright. Sure. Whatever dude," Scott grinned back at him, then turned his attention to the game.

* * *

Derek had been coming over a lot. Several times in the last week he'd waited outside Stiles' bedroom window until he was alone, then he'd climb in and sit quietly, close to the window.

The first time, Stiles had stared back at him for several very long minutes, neither of their gazes faltering before he finally said, "You know… being friends doesn't exactly mean the same thing as 'Please employ yourself as my personal guard dog slash burglar alarm system.'"

Derek jutted out his chin. "Someone has to watch out for you. They have your scent."

Stiles swiveled back and forth in his chair. "Yeah, but you don't have to sit there like furniture. We could actually do friend things. You know? Not act like I'm just sitting my room with some dude staring at me into all hours of the morning."

"I wasn't planning on staying all night."

Stiles pursed his lips. "Good to know. But you can't just sit there like that. You're wigging me out."

"Well, what do you propose we do? What do you and Scott do?"

"We play video games, talk about stuff…girls… go on adventures, fight crazy werewolves…"

"You have to stay in the house."

Stiles raised both hands in exasperation. "Like my dad hasn't made that clear enough? … None of those other things appeal to you?"

Derek shrugged and got to his feet, wandering absently. "Not particularly." He hadn't thought this through. He should have brought a book. "What else do you do?"

Stiles shrugged and glanced back at his laptop. "I was doing homework…"

Derek came over and looked over his shoulder. "What subject?"

Every day after that the first thing Derek said after he climbed in the window was, "Homework?" like he was Stiles' personal study monitor.

* * *

About a week later they were attacked again, this time it was after school in the boy's locker room. There were two alphas and they were focusing in on Scott. They'd set off the fire alarm and waited till the locker room was mostly clear before they'd made their move.

Luckily, Isaac and Jackson had been there. Once Boyd and Ericka showed up as well they'd stood a chance, but even once they had the two surrounded it was impossible to do anything but stand their ground and curse while the alphas laughed and delivered short, precise blows to whoever dared step toward them.

Once Derek and Peter burst in on the scene several minutes later, the tides rapidly turned.

Stiles had been cowering behind Scott whose arm had been slashed by one of the two. He didn't recognize either of these alphas, but one of them looked him in the eye and said, "Hey look, it's Sissy's little playmate."

That was the moment Derek burst in. An alpha and his entire pack was definitely more than a threat to two alphas alone. They ran out through the exit door after Derek's first long growl, shoving Jackson aside as they went.

Immediately Scott got to his feet. "What the hell was that? They're attacking us at school now? Do they know where we live?"

Peter shrugged, "Probably."

"You killed their packmate," Derek snapped at Scott. "What did you expect to happen?"

Scott's jaw had dropped. He looked over at Stiles and Derek's eyes followed his gaze.

"Stiles, are you alright?" Derek asked. Scott blinked hard and glanced between them.

Stiles nodded in response, jarring a knot he hadn't even known had been sitting in his throat. About two beats followed, then Derek's shoulder drooped. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Stiles' shoulders. Stiles froze in surprise, then lifted his arms up to clutch around Derek's torso. He pressed his face into Derek's chest and could feel his heartbeat against his face. "I'm good," Stiles assured him after a minute.

Satisfied, Derek stepped back, letting his arms drop to his sides. Scott shot Stiles a very wide-eyed _"What the hell?!"_ face.

"We need to be more careful. Any one of you could be their next target and you need to have your guard up. You guys," Derek pointed to the betas and Scott, "One of you needs to know exactly where Stiles is every single moment of the day."

"Do I need like, a rape whistle?" Stiles asked, running his tongue the inside of his cheek. He'd successfully cowered in the corner this time and been exempt from any of the action, but there was no guarantee he'd always be in a room full of packmembers.

"Yes," Derek replied, all seriousness. "The same thing goes for Allison, because I don't think the Argents really get what they're dealing with yet. Scott, if you want to tell them it will probably make our lives easier."

Scott nodded, "Okay."

"Also Lydia," he said, turning on Jackson. "She'll be vulnerable too."

"She'll be fine," Jackson assured them, but he said it in a way that convinced them he'd make sure of it.

"Scott? Your mom as well. All of your parents. It would probably be best if you took precautions. You and Stiles, if you can get your hands on enough you should line your houses with mountain ash. Everyone clear? Then let's go."

Derek's eyes lingered on Stiles before they left. Scott waited till a beat after everyone else had cleared out and Stiles was about to ask how his arm felt to ask, "How long have you two been going out?"

Stiles' jaw dropped and he almost smacked him when his brain caught up. "Dude. Dude! I'm not allowed to have friends?"

"Derek Hale just _hugged_ you, Stiles!... Derek!"

"That's what friends do for each other when they're freakin' scared out of their minds! I'm freaking out! Are you freaking out?" Stiles opened up his arms, "You know what? Come here." He caught Scott up in a huge hug and then went as far as to kiss his temple with a big, wet smack. Scott glared fondly at him. "You see that? No big deal."

"But…Okay. Stop. It's Derek…"

"Yeah, and it turns out he's just a big fluffy puppy. Can we forget about it? Let us take the hug, accept the hug, we could even go so far as to embrace the hug, and then we'll move on past it."

"Seriously? Nothing's going on? Because I thought you still liked Lydia, and as your best friend I think I need to be kept up on these things."

"No change. Still in love with Lydia. Plan's in place. Nothing's changed."

"Because I can smell him on you all the time and if you guys are a couple that would explain everything. Seriously, if you are, you can tell me and I'll get over that it's Derek and be cool with it, you know that, right?"

"Scott, he's just worried, okay? Nothing is going on. I'm not dating Derek Hale. And before you ask, I'm still a virgin, one hundred percent. Haven't even kissed anybody… except your head. Just now."

Scott smiled and rolled his eyes, socking Stiles lightly in the arm. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure. Okay? Nothing is going on that you don't know about. Now we're at the part where we move past it."

"Okay," Scott reluctantly agreed. School had been out for an hour now. They needed to head home. The fire department was slow, but it would definitely be there soon in response to the alarm.

"Okay," Stiles repeated, rescuing his backpack and slinging it on. "And I promise, dude, if I start gettin' on the nasty with Derek, or anyone else, you are going to be the first to hear about it. In excruciating detail."

Scott rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

"No, I'm serious. You're going to get a play by play. I'll keep a sex diary so I can recount every touching moment—And then his clothes slid off his hips. _Succulent_ hips, sorry, let me start over." Scott sloughed off his own backpack and whipped it around to smack Stiles in the back with it. "Oh my god! Stitches! See? This is why I like Derek better right now. He's hugging me, you're hitting me. It's a complete reverse of character!"

"Shut up, Stiles," Scott repeated, putting a gentle hand on his friend's back and listening to his heartbeat while he steered him toward his car, making sure he really was fine.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**- I'm really glad so many of you are enjoying this fic! I'm pretty excited about it. Hopefully there is not burn out, right? But we've gotta get through the action and on to the Sterek at some point! XD

* * *

**Impact**

* * *

"Are you tutoring me or am I tutoring you?"

Stiles grabbed for his notebook, "No seriously, dude. I swear that doesn't make any sense!"

"That's what it says in the book. You said to ask the questions that are in the book because they'll be on the test. That's what it says in the answer key. Are you smarter than the book? No. Is your answer going to be on the test? No."

"Dude. I'm totally smarter than the book," he mumbled which he flipped through pages. "Look! Right here! That's what it says in my notes."

Derek handed him the book and pointed to the number they were on. Stiles took the book from him, read it carefully, then pulled out a red pen and circled the answer viciously and drew a frowning face next to it.

"You just defaced school property," Derek said, voice level.

"I liberated it. Ask me another." He handed the book back.

"Look, you clearly don't need this. This isn't even my subject." He stared down at the frowny face with its tongue pointed out at him.

"What is your subject?"

"…What?"

"When you were in high school, what were you good at?"

Derek thought about it. "English."

Stiles blinked and hummed.

"What?"

"I'm just surprised. I thought you were gonna say something like P.E. or tearing people's throats out." He grinned. "English. That's cool."

"You thought I was just a dumb jock in high school?"

"I don't know. I always thought there were a lot of similarities between you and Jackson."

"Really? Jackson? That's who you'd compare me to? You hate Jackson."

Stiles clucked his tongue. "I'm starting to understand where he's coming from. We're getting to more like friends. Slowly. When he's not an evil Lydia-stealing Kanima. We're like frenemies."

"Frenemies?"

"Friend-enemies."

Derek nodded and was silent for a while. He leaned back on the bed and set the textbook to the side. "I guess I was kinda like Jackson."

"But you excelled at English," Stiles tried to prompt.

"I just liked reading."

After another silent moment Stiles asked, "Did… you ever play Lacrosse?"

Derek grinned slightly. "Yes."

Stiles eyes lit up. "Do you wanna practice with me?"

Derek stayed bent back against the bed, feet flat on the floor. "I haven't played in years. Also you can't go out after dark."

Stiles was already on his feet, tugging on his tennis shoes. "It'll be fine if you're with me, right? And my stitches have practically healed. It'll be fun! I could use the exercise." He paused when Derek simply sat up but didn't move. "…Scott would do it."

"I'm not Scott," Derek reminded him.

"Good, because he's totally making out with Allison right now and I need someone to lob balls at," he replied, handing Derek his long stick from the corner of his room. "I can't climb out the window like this, so meet me at my car, I'm gonna sneak out the front door."

Derek held the stick in both hands. "I could just… carry you down."

"…What do I look like, Lois Lane?"

Derek looked him up and down like he was considering it. Stiles' shoulders dropped in a huge sigh. "I could just sort of lower you down if you'd prefer."

Stiles pointed at him excitedly. "Yes! That!"

A half hour later they were standing on the Lacrosse field, the headlights of Stiles' jeep gave them light and Stiles was chucking his third ball at Derek, which was promptly missed.

"I told you I haven't played in ten years!" Derek growled angrily when Stiles laughed.

"I know! I'm sorry, dude! You'll get the hang of it. It's like riding a bicycle. Now throw it back."

Derek scooped the ball up and positioned himself for throwing. "I've never ridden a bike."

"Never? Dude…" Stiles said as he caught the easy lob and tossed it back.

This time Derek caught it. He was standing closer to the Jeep's light, so Stiles couldn't see his face when he grinned. "I never needed to learn."

"Yeah but everyone's gotta learn how to ride a bike. We're teaching you one of these days I—ow!" he missed the ball completely and it hit him in the face.

Derek's breath caught. "Are you okay?"

Stiles blinked to make sure his vision hadn't been distorted. He should have worn his helmet. "Yeah, I'm good. Damn! Which way did it roll?"

He located the ball, which had really ricocheted off him and rolled over by the bleachers. It was just picking up the light from the Jeep, making it thankfully easy to spot. He trotted out to retrieve it.

Derek was twirling his stick in his hands, enjoying how it felt—just slightly familiar. He hadn't even held one since he lost his family, but he remembered liking it once. Then he started. He smelled it, heard the movement, and saw it at the same time.

In an instant a wolf, one of the alphas that he still recognized from the fight at the house, was right up against Stiles, fingertips pressing into his skull and fangs bared by his neck. She was walking him forward into the beam of light. Derek dropped the stick.

"Hi Derek," she cooed. "I've got your snack. Or is he pack? Doesn't smell like it."

"You must be Sissy," Stiles said, wincing hard. The way she was pulling him back so that his spine curved toward her was making his stomach stretch in exactly the wrong way. So much for being almost totally healed. He clenched his teeth.

"Ooh! Very good. You must have met up with our very own Simon and Garfunkel."

"Let him go," Derek growled, still across the field.

"Seriously? Those are their names?" Stiles asked, trying to twist so that he was in a more comfortable position. Her grip on his head was so tight.

"No, but they're the only ones who call me that."

"Did—didn't you have long hair?"

She made an approving noise. "Yes I did, how observant. Your little kitty is observant, Derek! Do you like it?" She shook her head to show off the cropped cut.

"Let him go!" Derek roared this time.

Aww! Puppy's throwing a tantrum over his plaything. I dunno, I think he likes me, Derek. Maybe if I give him a little bite…" She didn't even get a chance to lean down, whispering, "Hey kitty, kitty. You'll taste good," in Stiles' ear before Derek was on top of her, swiping hard and dislodging her from Stiles.

"Get in your car!" he bellowed to Stiles, bracing himself between him and the alpha.

Stiles could barely think to scramble in the direction of the blinding headlights. She'd applied so much pressure to his skull he was afraid it was going to crack. Everything was throbbing. The spot on his neck where her breath had touched felt like it had been smacked with an Icy/Hot patch and his stomach felt like it had been ripped open all over again.

"One on one is so boring, but what can you do? Do you know how hard it is to organize a bunch of hotheaded alphas to do anything? Oh, no, you couldn't. You can barely organize enough betas to stand their ground until the Argents rush in, can you, sweetie?" she laughed at him and bared her teeth.

Derek rushed forward, but after a short scramble, they pulled apart again and she inched toward the forest.

"You can't protect him forever, Derek. We know his scent. Your little boyfriend's going to be alone someday and so's the rest of your pack. And you know what? You're going to be powerless. You can't just take the gift one day and think that makes you an alpha," she snapped at him. "I'm not even going to have to come with numbers, Derek. Just you and me and I'm going to let him watch when I tear out your throat and shove it up your ass." Derek roared back. She backed away. "Until next time."

Stiles had reached the jeep. In a second Derek was at his side, hands on both his shoulders.

"Did she hurt you?"

"Nope, just smushed my brains," Stiles replied, blinking. "Do you guys know each other?"

"No."

Stiles looked up at Derek, swayed slightly, and grabbed both of his elbows. Derek's heart had been going at double pace through the entire encounter, but now it seemed to pause at the look in Stiles' eyes. His wolf features faded. Stiles face seemed to light up at the same time his calmed. "You are so fast!"

"…What?"

"You're like the fucking Flash! Seriously, how fast can you run?"

Derek let him go and stepped away. "_That's_ what you got from all that? She could have killed you! She _plans_ to kill you."

"Yeah, but you were like, halfway across the field and then Bam! You were right there! That was amazing! Can Scott run that fast?"

Derek sighed. "Stiles…"

"No, seriously. We have to find out how fast you can go. That was so cool, man! That was quite possibly the coolest thing you've ever done. We have to find out. Get in the jeep."

Derek waited till Stiles was in the car then went to pick up the fallen sticks and gather the balls. Stiles sat behind the driver's seat, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He'd lifted his shirt to check his stomach while Derek's back was turned. The closed skin was still intact. The stitches had pulled at the skin in places leaving angry red marks, but there was no bleeding, just some tenderness to the touch. He sighed in relief.

When Derek had finally loaded both the sticks and himself into the jeep Stiles turned to him, "You are so cool, you don't even know!"

"Where are we going?" Derek asked, trying to ignore the praise.

Stiles' eyes seemed to blaze for half a second. "There's one of those speed reader things over by the elementary school. You're gonna run past it!"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**- I'm so glad you've all been enjoying this so much! I've started waking up in the morning with ideas and getting excited about the alpha pack and all kinds of crazy things I never expected, so I guess this is going to go on for a while... I think if you go ahead and count on 15 chapters you won't be far off.

* * *

**Impact**

* * *

"Why are we doing this again?" Scott asked the next night as they walked up the hill by the elementary school.

"Because we have to see if you're faster than Derek. I'm serious, it was so cool, dude. He broke eighty and that was going straight uphill. If he were a DeLorean we'd be back in time," he grinned.

Scott checked his phone again. It was after eleven and Stiles' dad was working late. "Didn't you say that alpha attacked you last night?"

Stiles paused slightly then pushed on. "Yeah, but I'm fine."

"How can you be so calm about it? You're only fine because Derek was there—"

"Yeah, and now you're here. Problem solved!"

"Stiles, hey," he grabbed Stiles' arm and pulled him to a halt. "She almost killed you."

Stiles studied Scott's face. The dim amount of lamplight made it hard to see anything, but he reached out and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "She didn't. And no one's going to attack us the night after away, you know? That's not their M.O. And Derek put the fear of god into them, so let's just dash you up the hill and then we can go home, okay?"

Scott agreed reluctantly.

"And I wouldn't need to rely on you guys all the time if Allison would just slip me a gun."

Scott paused, "You asked Allison for a gun?"

"Yeah, but I don't have a license and I'm accident prone. All this legal stuff…" he waved a hand. "She's probably got a point. Anyway, all we're out here for is checking your speed, then it's back to the relative safety of a house lined with magic dust."

Scott rolled his eyes at him. "I could have been hanging out with Allison."

"Yes, but you're too good a friend to pass this up. Now come on. It's right up here."

Unfortunately when they got there, the speedometer was shut off.

"What the hell? Who turns off a speed indicator?" Stiles asked, waving his hands around it. "How do you turn it back on?"

"Maybe they got tired of kids messing around in the middle of the night and having their friends run past it when they could be home safe like upstanding citizens." He got text and checked it. "Or, you know, breaking into their girlfriend's bedroom for a midnight make out. I mean, seriously Stiles, we shouldn't have even come out here."

"Ugh! This is so unfair. You can just take your logic and also your hormones and find someone else's parade to rain on."

"I don't know, it looks like fairly clear weather to me."

Scott and Stiles froze at the same time. A figure in an open coat that hung to mid-thigh was strolling down the hill.

"How could you not smell him?" Stiles hissed at Scott.

Scott just shrugged, "I wasn't paying attention."

"Yes, that seems to be _your _M.O., doesn't it, little beta?" the figure chided again. It was clearly an alpha, but not one that sounded familiar.

"Listen, we were just inspecting this device and now we're gonna be on our way," Stiles said, dropping his voice down and hoping he sounded older. The alpha chuckled.

"You're the one who escaped from Sissy twice. Better watch out, if she has to keep going after you we're going to start suspecting a crush."

Stiles and Scott were backing down the hill now. "You know, she's a great girl, but not really my type. I've actually got my sights set on someone else."

There was a twinkle in the alpha's eye and his pace quickened. Scott pushed Stiles behind him and growled, wolf features visible. "Derek?" it asked.

Stiles scoffed, but he as he glanced over his shoulder he saw another form appear just beyond the rays of the streetlight that marked the end of the hill. He grabbed Scott's arm. "Why does everyone think Derek and I are together?" He tried to ask without panic in his voice.

"What do you want?" Scott growled.

"What does any large group of power hungry creatures want?" the first alpha asked. "To restore order." At least he had the decency to use air quotes.

"I hear you really don't have much of that though. Everyone's a leader so the train never gets moving? I heard—"

"Stiles, shut up," Scott hissed.

"—you can't even organize enough to call yourself a pack. That's why you keep stopping by and getting your asses handed to you by a group of betas. That's right."

Scott gave him an exasperated look. The alpha shrugged. "That's not entirely wrong. It is hard to get everyone united around a single cause, but that's how it is. That's how we work. Luckily I managed to find a few close friends who don't mind joining me for this little venture. Look what I managed: it's four of us, and one and a half of you." He'd reached the speedometer by now. "Derek can pull eighty. Wanna see how fast I can run?"

Just then a car can screeching down the hill, brights on and wheels squealing. It stopped beside Scott and Stiles. The driver's side window was down. Dr. Deaton's face was lit up by his dashboard. "Do you boys need a ride?"

"We were just going to walk them home," the alpha called, but Deaton's eyes didn't waver from the boy's faces.

They didn't even have time to thank him. They scramble into the back of the car and slam the doors shut just as howls rose up from the group surrounding them. Deaton put the car in gear and raced off down the road, not even slowing when one of them appeared in front of him and had to leap out of the way at the last second.

"Thank you," Scott murmured.

"I don't know what you boys were thinking," he replied, looking at them in the rearview mirror, "But you are just asking for trouble."

* * *

The next night Derek was in Stiles' room, facing the window, seething quietly. Stiles was sitting in his desk chair with his knees to his chest. He knew he shouldn't have been going out. He knew he was lucky Dr. Deaton had come to the rescue. He didn't need Derek to tell him that. He knew he'd been stupid.

Suddenly, Derek wasn't standing at the window anymore. Stiles walked over to see where he'd gone and immediately jumped back, out of sight. The same alpha they'd met up with the night before was standing on the street, still staring up at the window even as Derek approached him.

His voice wasn't even remotely hushed and Stiles was grateful his dad wasn't home tonight and that the lady across the street had particularly bad hearing because it wasn't hard to catch everything they said.

"Your little playtoy has been a lot of trouble for us, Derek."

"Stay away from him, Isaiah. Keep the pack off my turf," Derek replied.

Stiles peeked up through the corner of the window. So Derek did know the alphas?

Isaiah snorted. "Well, see, that's the funny thing about this pack, Derek: it's really hard to get us united on one idea. Leaving? Not something we're all in agreeance on. Your pet however? Or… should I call him your mate? Is that what's really going on?" Derek growled. "We all agree that he's a disgrace. I mean, seriously Derek? A human in your pack? It's bad enough you're calling in hunters for backup, that's a fairly deep breach of tradition. Not okay. But all you'll spend your time doing with a human around is saving his sorry, meaty ass. And you know what? He's a sitting duck. The first one of us to get our hands on him when you aren't around? He's ours."

"You're not getting a second warning," Derek said. He was maintaining his human features, but Stiles suspected that was only because the other alpha was too.

The alpha had the gall to raise his voice. Stiles just hoped that by some miracle he didn't know he was there, wasn't saying this for his benefit. He hoped that at least the mountain ash spell had worked properly. Derek and Scott had no problem crossing the barrier so far, and that had been the aim, but neither had tried to transform while inside either. It could just as easily be completely useless.

"In fact," the alpha said, "I have plans for him myself. You see, the next time I find him strolling around alone, wherever he might be and whoever he might be with, I'm going to bite him. Hard. Right through his juicy neck. I'm going to give him a nice big chomp, and you know what that's going to do, Derek? Oh… you know. If he survives and turns it's going to give me free reign over everything he is. He'll be under my control." Stiles shuddered. "I think I'll give him to the pack as a gift. I'll let them do what they want with him," he smirked, "_Whatever_ they want, and when they're done? When he's used up? I will personally tear him to shreds. That's quite a lot to look forward to, isn't it? And he won't mind. He'll be serving his alpha. Loyally. We can't afford betas in the pack for more than chewtoys. However, if he managed to kill you… well, then we'd welcome him in with open arms, wouldn't we?"

"What are you even here for?" Derek asked. He was trying to sound steady but there was a tight note in his voice.

"Let's just say it's not recruitment." Stiles tensed from up in the window. "We've already had to kill off two of our own because they couldn't get past your little beta killing Morris. They messed up their mission and became a liability."

"Glad to know you're making this easier on us," Derek snorted.

"We're all very insulted that you think you can rise up and take charge around here, and with what a poor job you're doing it's just adding injury to it. Your beta killed our packmate. It's not okay, Derek. We're going to stop you and take revenge. Or else… he's going to stop you." He was looking right up at Stiles' window. Stiles' heart was beating a mile a minute. "Or maybe we were just bored. It's not our pack verses yours, Derek. It's us verses you. Never forget that. We'll be seeing you around. Goodnight, Stiles."

Stiles could have sworn he wet himself, but he double checked and was good. His stomach hurt, his head was throbbing, and all because some damn werewolf, who hopefully couldn't get in, really had been talking to him the whole time. He dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and rubbed hard.

Within a few seconds, Derek was back in again. The calm, collected stance he'd been maintaining diminished the second he was safely within the walls. He slammed Stiles' window shut.

"What were you thinking last night?" he shouted, turning on Stiles.

"I'm sorry…"

"They're not just going to kill you! This was their plan all along! They're going to take you, and turn you, and manipulate you like their little play thing. Do you want that?"

Stiles scrambled to his feet. "I heard, okay? I get it."

His breath caught as Derek surged forward, catching his face in both hands, his claws were extended and his eyes glowed red for a split second, but he held Stiles' face gently. "You don't! You have no idea what the alpha pack does to betas they pick up. If they get you, that's it." His hands had slid to Stiles' neck. The veins in his arms were bulging. "You'll be their puppet. They'll make you kill everyone you love and then they'll use you. They'll use you as their target practice or their..." he swallowed. "There'll be no way to bring you back. No… no way to reach you again once they've gotten into your head. These aren't normal alphas. They've bonded together for a reason. They're cruel. Stiles… We're going to lose you."

Stiles didn't say anything for several seconds, then he reached up and touched the wrist of Derek's arm. "They won't get me." The wolfiness seemed to subside again and Derek closed his eyes. His hands slid away from Stiles and hung at his side. "I promise."

Derek stared at him sadly for several seconds. "…I should bite you."

"What?"

"I should turn you. I should make you one of mine. It should be me. I could teach you to control it, teach you to fight…"

Stiles took a step back. "Derek, you're freaking me out."

"The worst they could do would be kill you after that. Once you belong to me they couldn't have you." He stepped forward.

"Derek, stop it. Stop—" he swatted Derek's hand away as it reached out for him. "And would turning me solve everything?" Derek didn't even blink. "Would we have magically won? Would my life actually be any better having to change into a crazed killer every full moon? Every time I'm angry? Because I saw what happened to Scott, okay? Yeah. I saw what it did to his brain, and that's fucking terrifying. I'm angry a _lot_, you know? Maybe you can't tell, maybe I'm good at hiding it, but I'm angry all the goddamn time… So how would you changing me be any different from them doing it? I've seen Scott lose it. I've seen my best friend change into something I didn't even recognize and I'm not talking about the claws or the fangs or the wacky sideburns. I don't want to be that. I don't want to see myself become that _thing_." The intensity of Derek's eyes changed and he realized what he'd said. "No, Derek. You… … It wouldn't be _me_. That's all I mean. I'm scared. Come on, put the fangs away."

Derek stepped back and swallowed. "If we can't stop them…" Derek wasn't looking at him anymore. He took a breath and sunk down to his knees on the floor. It was the weakest Stiles had ever seen him.

"There's no way to know if I'd even survive the bite to begin with." Derek looked up at him. "I don't want to die, Derek."

A long moment passed between them. Derek's eyes were so sad, so defeated. "I can't win," he whispered finally. "I'm not as strong. I don't… I don't know what I'm doing. I thought I did, but I never…" he swallowed. "I'm not a leader. I'm not like Scott. They barely trust me. They barely follow me. I should give the power to him. He could use it… he could win…"

"Scott may be good in a pinch, but I think we can both agree he's not the brightest bulb in the box, am I right?" Derek just seemed to deflate further. Stiles knelt down. "Hey, hey! Look at me. This past month, since the attack on your house has anyone been hurt? I mean seriously hurt. No. Because this group, this pack, it may just be a group of betas, a couple of humans, and me," Derek snorted. "Yeah, that's right, I'm special. But they've got you influencing them. They're your pack, and they're willing to rally around you if you'll trust them. You've always come when we needed you and you've always driven them back. You can't let the alphas get to you now."

"They are getting to me. They're going to get to you, and they haven't even been trying. If they bite you—"

"No. You know what? We're gonna win. We're gonna do it without you having to bite me and if it does come down to that, if they do get me… we'll deal with it. I'm sure there's some other way."

"There isn't…"

"We'll find it," Stiles assure him. "Now you go back to being happy, because everyone needs that. Influence the pack for good."

Derek looked up at him with a very soft glance, the kind his dad sometimes gave him when he realized he had his full support when times were hard.

Stiles grinned, "Come on, hug it out!" He opened up his arms.

Derek hesitated, then his expression shifted suddenly to one of resolution, like something had clicked into place. It was gone in a flash, but Stiles was sure he'd seen it.

Derek reached forward, hugged Stiles with one arm and held him there. He held him tight, took a deep breath, then got up and left without a word. Stiles stayed on the floor, kneeling and trying not to let his brain repeat the words the alpha had said.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**- We're starting to get into a bit of violence. Never anything worse than what you'd see on the show. You've been warned.

* * *

**Impact**

* * *

Stiles woke a few nights later to a tap on his window. When he got up to open his blinds, moaning that Scott could just call him, he jumped back in shock. Perched on the ledge outside his window was the last face he wanted to see. "Oh god!" he reached for his desk chair and wheeled it in front of him.

Sissy was smiling in at him, teeth bared. "Not gonna let me in?" she asked sweetly, voice muffled by the windowpane.

Stiles shook his head. "Nope. Wasn't planning on it."

"Aww, but I've been throwing rocks up."

"Yes, and I've been trying to sleep, so…" Stiles glanced around his room. He needed to start sleeping with a baseball bat beside his bed…or a semi-automatic.

Sissy sat back on her feet and looked like she was getting comfortable. "I want you to call your boy."

"I don't know what you—"

"Call Derek, and tell him to come to your rescue."

Stiles paused. "No. Why don't you call him?"

"I think you should," she assured him.

Stiles glanced around the room for anything that would serve as a better weapon than his chair. "I don't think it would help. He wouldn't come. I'm not exactly Gwen Stacy."

"Really? You're trying that? We both know that's not true." She leaned forward. "You're starting to grow on me, kitty, so I'm going to be frank with you. If I start howling now I could bring at least five packmembers to your house within seconds, and how long do you think it's going to take for daddy dearest to get woken up by the commotion and come outside? Because if you calling him won't bring Derek running, I think killing the Sheriff will."

Stiles felt incredibly cold all of a sudden. "That won't solve anything…"

She shrugged. "No, but I'm gonna feel damn good about it. And I think it will solve something. You don't seem to be aware of the impact you've made on us. We have two major focuses that are keeping us here in the sticks. Derek Hale, the new alpha, and little Mr Big-Man who thought killing an alpha would make him so cool." She paused. "Of course, he must not have landed the final blow since he isn't an alpha himself now. Interesting. That's not even going to change where the blame lies."

"That seems unfair," Stiles muttered.

"I like you, you're funny," she said. "There's a connection between the two. A weak link, if you will. That's you, kitty. They both care so much about you and you're so completely vulnerable. Yet, despite that I can't seem to kill you. They keep coming to your rescue and one of these days it'll be the wrong place at the wrong time and it's going to be so easy to destroy them."

"Yet the scoresheet is not panning out in your favor, is it, Sissy?" Stiles cheeked.

Sissy placed her palm flat on the windowpane. "That's a nice spell you've got up around the place." She pressed harder, applying pressure until the glass cracked like a spider web across her face. "By the way, my name isn't actually Sissy. It's Selena."

"Apt." Stiles' whole body was shaking. He'd managed to grab hold of his lacrosse stick and was wielding it like a club.

"Let me know when your father's life starts being more important to you than Derek Hale and we'll try this again." She said, and disappeared.

It took Stiles two seconds to rush over to the window to tell her to wait. She was already gone. He gathered his nerves, then crept down the hall and sat outside his father's room, cradling his lacrosse stick and listening to his dad breathe for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next morning at school Stiles heard about three murders that took place the night before. It was no one related to the pack or that any of them knew personally, but the victims were found together, carried from the places they'd been murdered, arranged and contorted to mimic the same symbol Stiles had seen on Derek's back. They'd been found at the mouth of the forest, on the road leading to the Hale place.

He didn't even make it to his first class. Stiles ducked into the boy's room and called his dad.

"Stiles, I'm working. You're supposed to be in class."

He swallowed. "I'm sick. I'm at the nurse's office, could you come pick me up?"

His father paused, "How sick?"

"I…you know… _deathly_."

"Stiles, you're a grown man. You have your jeep." Stiles closed his eyes tight. "Drive yourself home and I'll try and get off early tonight, okay? Do you need me to pick up anything?"

"No…"

"Okay, well, get your homework before you go. And apologize to Sonya for me."

"Who?"

"Sonya!" there was a pause, "Mrs. Martinez."

Stiles smacked his forehead. "Right! The nurse. Yeah. Sure thing."

"Do I need to talk to her and let her know it's okay for you to come home?"

"No, don't worry about it. Everything's okay."

"Alright. I'll see you after work. Feel better, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks Dad. Love you."

"Love you too."

Stiles leaned his head against the bathroom mirror as he hung up, then he splashed water on his face and gripped this sink. There was no point in going to class anymore now that he was dismissed. He swung by the nurse's office, waited till her back was turned, snuck in and quickly signed himself out, then booked it to his jeep.

He thought about stopping by the station, but if someone had seen him it would have been harder to explain. At home he double checked to make sure all the locks worked, including on the windows. He wished they had a burglar alarm, but it had never been necessary before. The mountain ash still seemed to be intact, and he closed his eyes and wished more than anything that it would hold, hoping that could at least do something. Lastly, he went out to get some wolfsbane.

Once he'd acquired it, he placed the wolfbane under his father's bed as well as discretely over their front door. He'd have to tell Scott and apologize that he couldn't come by anymore, but until this thing blew over he'd rather be safe than dead. Last he carried some up to his bedroom. When he opened the door, Derek was sitting on his bed.

"Jesus Christ!" Stiles yelled, jumping.

"What do you think you're doing with that?" Derek yelled back, jumping equally far toward the window.

Stiles looked at the flowers in his hand, dropped them outside the door and slammed it shut. "I don't know! Trying to keep out intruders who've been threatening to kill me?"

Derek didn't even relax. His eyes were glowing red. "That's why I'm here! I saw the cracks in your window."

Stiles ran his tongue along the outside of his teeth, then took three steps forward, wound up, and had his fist caught by Derek on the way to his face. "Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Derek squeezed Stiles' fist within his own and used it to turn his arm, twisting it until Stiles was on his knees, completely submissive, then he let go. "What are you trying to do?"

Stiles glared. "This is all your fault you know. All of you werewolves and your goddamn hierarchies and anger management issues! This isn't fair, Derek! Why am I the target now? Why is all of this on me?"

Derek paused. "Stiles…"

"My dad's it, okay? He's all I've got and I can't…" he swallowed. "It would be worse than anything to lose him. _You_ know. You know what that's like."

Derek knelt down too. "They're not going to hurt him."

"Yeah? You think a direct threat isn't clear enough evidence? I'm not planning on banning my best friend from my house because of something trivial. I'm not gonna buy my dad a freakin' wolfsbane _bush_ and put it in his office and one in his patrol car because things are _just going to be blow over._ I'm going to do everything I can to protect the only family I have!" He was shaking. "I can't… Derek, I'm just one person. I can't be in the middle of this. I'm freakin terrified!"

"Stiles…"

"Next time she comes, I'm going to turn you in. I shouldn't even have to be mixed up in this. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong—"

Derek leaned forward and touched his shoulder at the same moment Scott climbed through the window.

"Dude, what happened? School's over, I was worried about you. Your window—Oh…Derek."

Derek turned and nodded to him. Stiles stood up quickly and wiped his cheeks on his own shoulders.

Scott walked toward him. "You have wolfsbane?" Stiles nodded. "Are you-?"

Derek blocked his path by pulling Stiles into a brief hug. He whispered into Stiles' ear, "I know you're scared. I know you're a mess, but it's going to be okay. I'm going to keep you safe. We're going to finish this." He let go, turned, and gave Scott a look. "It's time."

"Now?" Scott sounded confused, but Stiles was decidedly moreso.

"Now," Derek confirmed. "It's set." Scott's expression went blank as he turned to Stiles.

"Sorry buddy." Before Stiles could react, Scott walked up and clobbered him over the head. Stiles sank into Scott's arms. Derek was already out the window.


	9. Chapter 9

**Impact**

* * *

When Stiles awoke, he was lying in his own basement. He felt sick and confused. He tried the door at the top of the stairs. It was locked and wolfsbane was stuffed under the door.

"Hello?" no one answered him. He tried the lock again and searched his pockets for something to pick it with. His heartbeat was racing. The last thing he remembered was Scott whacking him over the head. He was going to pay for that. Worthless best friend… His fingers were freezing as they fumbled through empty pockets. They could have at least put a sweatshirt on him, couldn't they? And left him with a lockpick? Finding nothing in the basement to help and no spare key anywhere, he went up to the top of the stairs and tried ramming the door with his shoulder.

He bounced off without impact and almost lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs. After catching and steadying himself he yelled, "Anyone there?" then tried ramming it again. This time he really did lose his footing and stumbled down five steps before he could catch himself, twisting his elbow. His whole body was graciously reminding him it had only just recently been deemed healed. This time he banged on the door with his fist. "Hello? Dad? Anyone? A little help?"

It wasn't his dad's voice who answered. "He's not home, Stiles. You have to stay there."

Stiles pressed his ear to the door. "…Lydia?"

He could hear footsteps. When she spoke again she was right on the other side of the door. "You're dad's going to be home late. There's a message on your answering machine. They got a call outside of town and had to go investigate."

Stiles' stomach churned. "Oh my god." He gripped the doorknob for support, then started banging frantically again. "Let me out!"

"Calm down you moron! We sent him."

He pressed his ear to the door again. "What?"

She sighed and something dragged across the floor and bumped to a stop by the door. "We sent him a false lead to get the police out of the way so they wouldn't get mixed up in this."

"What's this? Who is we? What happened?"

"Stiles, you're locked in the basement so you don't do anything stupid. I'm not supposed to talk to you or let you out until everything is done and Peter comes back to explain it to you."

"What? Peter? Lydia please. My head hurts and I'm freaking out down here."

She took a moment. "I got a call just a minute ago. Apparently the trap worked and they're on to phase two."

"What trap? What phase two? What about my dad?"

"Your dad is fine, I promise. The trap is to catch the alphas. They're driving them out of town tonight."

Stiles stood there for a moment, trying to connect the dots, but nothing was coming to him. "They're getting rid of the alphas? … Alone?"

Lydia scoffed. "There are six werewolves and a large party of hunters against something like a half dozen alphas. I think they're going to be alright."

"What the… what the hell? Why didn't I know about this? How did they even hide it from me?"

"They hid it from you by not telling Scott till the last minute. They didn't tell you because you would have tried to get involved. Derek's been working on this for weeks, but it all came together just a few days ago. They organized Allison's family, laid the trap, and set the bait. I guess it worked. Now we just have to hope it ends peacefully."

"What-? They're fighting the alphas, how could it end peacefully?"

"Something about a blood pact or tradition… I don't know, Stiles, I'm not even supposed to be talking to you."

He closed his eyes and finally sat down on the top step. "How long was I out?"

"Under an hour. They were supposed to use something stronger to keep you under longer, but Scott's an idiot."

Stiles bit back to urge to remind her that Scott was _his_ idiot by remembering he was still furious with him. "Why are you here? Is anyone else-?"

"I'm supposed to watch you. Make sure you don't get out and try to be a hero."

Stiles scrubbed his fingers through his hair. So he was that much of a liability, was he? They couldn't even tell him to just back off, they had to lock him in his own goddamn basement?

There was a shuffle from Lydia's side of the door. "Listen Stiles…"

"I am the weak link, aren't I? I'm so much of a moron that I could mess everything up when I don't even know what's going on…"

Lydia's voice was calm. "That's not it at all. There has to be someone left behind, Stiles. You're smart enough to figure that out. In a war, there has to be someone left on the last line of defense, someone the soldiers can count on to take care of things if all else fails and to come home to if everything works out. Someone has to be guaranteed to survive. That's you and me, Stiles. We're not werewolves, we're not hunters. That's what we can do. We can be brave, and we can stay alive."

"Wait, so we're just—? What if… what if something happens to them? Why aren't you locked up?"

"Because I knew there was nothing I could do to help."

"We could do _something_. So it's just me. How can I even be the last line of defense if I'm stuck in my own fucking basement?"

"Will you listen to me, Stiles?" he had a sudden notion that she was just as scared as he was. "You aren't the weak link. Not by a long shot. They need you. You're smart, you're brave, you keep them together." He scoffed. "Listen. On a chain, if the weak link breaks you can replace, it, but if the strongest link breaks your whole chain is broken. Do you remember when you were in the hospital? They were in pieces. It would have been the perfect time to chase the alphas out of town while they were recovering, but no one even considered that. They had to make sure you were okay. They need you alive, even if it means locking you up for your own boneheaded good. You're their strongest link. Even Derek said so."

Stiles frowned. "Derek said that?"

She leaned her head against the door. "Everyone needs somebody, Stiles. Your heart is just big enough to fit them all."

Just then her ringtone went off and she excused herself, explaining that he wasn't allowed to listen in. Stiles stood up at the top of the stairs, gripping the door handle tightly with one hand.

When she came back he immediately asked what had happened.

"Everything's going according to plan. The reinforcements just showed up. It should be over soon."

"Reinforcements?"

"There's a group of hunters who hunts that pack exclusively. Once we found out about them we made a bargain and called them in. Don't worry, our pack is safe."

"I could have been doing that research. Helping out… all this time I've been moping."

Lydia hummed. "It's no biggie. I needed a part to play too."

"But if they'd trusted me…"

"Stiles. Stop. They do trust you, okay? They trust you enough to keep you out of the mix so you'll be alive to help out the next time. Just calm down."

He pounded once on the door, then sat down again. "How long till… how will we know when it's over?"

"… It's going to be okay, Stiles."

"I know, I just…"

"Hey. They're going to be okay."

* * *

It felt like well over an hour before Lydia got another call. She'd shuffled around some, but he'd barely moved. He kept trying to imagine what could have been going on, who might have been hurt, Sissy/Selena's face, grinning as she got the upper hand on Scott, on Derek, on his dad…

When Lydia came back there was relief in her voice.

"It worked. It's over. Our group is with Dr. Deaton now."

"Deaton? They're at the vet?"

"They _are_ wolves. Actually, Dr. Deaton was a huge part of the plan. It turns out he's some kind of werewolf expert. I don't know much. I was also kept in the dark."

"Not as far as me," Stiles pointed out.

"Anyway, Allison said Jackson and Peter are planning on heading over here soon. Peter's going to explain everything, like I said before."

"Scott couldn't come?"

She didn't answer him and he could feel his pulse race. "As soon as I see them I can let you out. It won't be long now."

* * *

Not long turned out to be an hour. Stiles asked three times about Scott. He kept hearing tissues get pulled out of the box as Lydia paced. He chewed his own cold fingers to keep from panicking. Finally he heard a sigh of relief and Lydia came and unlocked the door.

Wolfbane was scattered everywhere. She kicked it all down onto the first step, then held Stiles arm, whether to keep him from rushing the door or to steady him he wasn't sure. His legs felt shaky. When the door finally opened, it was neither Jackson nor Peter.

Derek was standing there. His shirt and jeans were torn in several places. His right forearm was heavily wrapped in bandages and there was one wrapped around his neck with five spots of blood seeping through, the pattern of five claws aiming to rip out his trachea. He looked directly at Stiles while Jackson stepped in also and scooped Lydia into a hug. He looked even worse for wear than Derek.

"How's Scott?" Stiles asked, not able to will his legs to move.

"He woke up just before we left. He's fine. His bones are set. He's mending."

Stiles nodded. "He's okay?" Derek nodded. "And my dad?"

"He's fine. He'll be home soon."

"You're all okay?"

"Yes."

"You guys are shit friends, you know? I don't think I want to be part of your pack anymore."

Derek didn't move for a second, then he stepped forward. His face looked so tired. He reached out and leaned heavily into a hug, face buried in Stiles' shoulder and wrapped his arms around Stiles' neck. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Of course I'm alright. I was locked up."

"Thank you," Derek whispered.

"I didn't do anything," Stiles replied, bracing himself to hold Derek up. He blinked hard. Derek's body was limp and barely keeping itself upright.

"I know. But it only worked because of you."

Stiles felt like snorting, but mostly he just felt so relieved he couldn't find something snarky to say. He closed his eyes and leaned back into Derek.

"We're just, going to go…" Jackson said loudly. Stiles opened his eyes and frowned. "You two lovers just… carry on."

Stiles moved so his chin was hooked over Derek's shoulder. "We're having a moment," he informed him. Jackson raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, well, screw you. I'm glad you're alive too."

Jackson paused for a moment, then nodded. "Come on, Lydia. I'll drive you home."

"Bye Stiles," Lydia said, then walked over and patted his hand where it was wrapped around Derek's back. As she walked away he finally noticed how awkward it was that he was still holding Derek up. He totally could have gotten a hug from Lydia. For some reason that seemed like the least important thing right then. "I want to go see Allison before we go to your place," she told Jackson as they walked out the door.

"Are you asleep?" Stiles asked as his front door clicked shut.

"No," Derek replied.

"Lydia told me your crazy uncle was supposed to come let me down easy."

"I came instead. Can I stay?" Stiles nodded. "I'll explain everything, I promise. I'm just tired."

"Okay," Stiles said, then he shifted. "Let's get you to my room. My dad'll flip if he finds you on the couch. I'll sleep in the spare room or something." Derek barely helped with dragging himself up the stairs. All the fire Stiles had seen in his eyes when he'd first entered was completely gone. He opened his door with his foot and hefted Derek down onto his bed. Derek took his own shoes off, then leaned back. "You guys won, though?"

Derek smiled. "We did."

"How? I mean, they were insane… Selena and Isaiah and…"

Derek's eyes rolled closed. "I'll tell you in the morning."

"No, no! Right now. I need to know something, anything. You fucking… you had me whacked over the head and tossed in the basement."

"And now you have cold hands," Derek mumbled. He sat up. "Come here."

Stiles sat down backwards in his desk chair, then wheeled it across the floor to the bed. "Did you know them? I mean, how did you know Isaiah's name?"

Derek took Stiles' hands into his own and rubbed them. Derek's hands felt particularly warm. "I don't know them directly. I'd heard of them. I looked into it over the summer, once I knew they were here. And I'm sorry Scott hit you. He was just supposed to knock you out. I didn't think he'd do it physically."

"Why couldn't you have just said something, like, I dunno, Hey Stiles, we're planning on attacking the group of vicious alpha wolves by leading them off a cliff or into a volcano or whatever and calling in hunters. By the way you aren't invited."

"It was in the old quarry. In the forest." Derek blinked hard and seemed to stifle a yawn. He let go of Stiles' hands and the warmth they'd been acquiring seemed to vanish instantly.

"Okay, but you couldn't have given me warning?"

"Had to do it on the new moon. That was our best chance for beating werewolves. The betas would be most calm."

"So why I have been in on it? This seems like a pretty stupid thing to keep me out of. To lock me up for..."

Derek looked up at him. His eyes searched Stiles' face. "Because you had every right to be terrified." There was a long pause between them. "…May I sleep here?"

Stiles blinked and looked away. He withdrew his hands. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. My bed's kinda small so I'll just… I'll go wait downstairs for my dad. Thanks for keeping him safe, by the way." Derek nodded. "And I'll sleep in the spare room."

"You sure?"

Stiles nodded, so Derek nodded back, then lay down and closed his eyes. Stiles wiped at his cheeks but they were dry. He turned off the lights and went to shut the door. The cracked glass of his window shimmered, slightly illuminated. He frowned and walked to the window.

Sure enough, a thin sliver of moon was hanging in the sky. He checked the lunar calendar on his desk. The new moon came at the end of the week. He looked over at Derek on his bed, already curled to the side with his injured arm on top. Stiles closed his mouth, sucked in his lips, and quietly closed his door and went downstairs.

* * *

**A/N-** This is not the last chapter! Hold onto your baseball caps! Be not afraid! I talked about how to go about this with people (read: YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) a lot, because I have been totally falling in love with the alpha pack, but this started as a season 3 headcanon and I think I need to stay true to that till the end. This is how I think the season should unfold and I guess this is how you're going to get it! Stay tuned to find out more about what went down and to get your well deserved Sterek! (Now I'm starting to sound like a voucher program.)


	10. Chapter 10

******A/N-** Sorry this chapter took so long. There's a lot I needed to accomplish in this one and I was super busy doing other things… I'm not 100 percent sure I'm satisfied with it, but I think it fulfills its purpose. Hopefully this answers all your questions adequately so we can move on to the super exciting next arc of this fic!

* * *

**Impact**

* * *

"You didn't ask about Erica."

"What?"

"Last night, you were worried about Scott and your dad and…me. And Jackson of all people, but you didn't ask about Erica." Derek was sitting on Scott's bed that morning, watching blearily as Stiles got his things ready for school, because regardless of everything that had gone on last night, the school district still decided to be blissfully unaware that members of its own were just out risking their lives for the good of the town and carried on with classes as usual. There was also no convincing Stiles' dad that the thermometer had been lying to him, so Stiles would have to wait for his explanation till that afternoon.

"Should I have asked about her?" Stiles asked, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Worse than Jackson, better than Scott."

"But Scott's okay, yeah?"

"Yes. He should have mostly healed by now. But it would have meant a lot to her if you'd been worried."

"…To Erica?"

Derek glared. "No, to Boyd. Yes to Erica. It's hard having a crush on someone who you don't have a chance with, who doesn't even acknowledge you."

"Yeah, I know! I could write the book on it. Did I not mention my torpid non-romance with Lydia Martin?"

"And yet you're just as bad," Derek said.

Stiles paused and looked over at him. Derek was looking out the cracked window. He couldn't read anything off him. "You promised you'd tell me everything today."

"You have school. You ditched yesterday." Derek smirked, then lay back. "If I stay here, will your dad notice?"

"Probably not. He has today off, but he doesn't come in here or anything. I'll shut the door. You could always hide under the bed."

Derek cracked an eyelid but didn't say anything.

"I'll see you after school then? "

"I'll be here."

"And I'll get a full account, right? No detail left undescribed?"

"Have fun at school, Stiles," Derek said.

* * *

At school, the first thing he did was wait by Scott's locker. The minute he saw him hobbling around the corner he charged over and wrapped his arms around him. "You scared me so much. I'm so fucking mad at you. We are not friends anymore," he said into Scott's shoulder.

Scott squeezed him back. "Love you too, man."

Stiles pulled back. "Everyone's good? Everyone's okay?"

Scott smiled. "Everyone's good."

Stiles smacked him upside the head, then hugged him again while Scott was protesting. "You hit me over the head and threw me in the basement!"

"I know. I'm sorry. Have you seen Allison?"

"Not yet. We'll walk to her locker. Just like, hold my hand or walk like this or something. You can stand on my feet."

"I thought we weren't friends anymore?" Scott teased into Stiles' shoulder.

"Yeah, we're not. I hate you forever. Just keep reminding me you're real, okay?"

Scott settled for slinging his arm around Stiles' shoulders and using him for support. As they made their way down the hall he said, "Now you know how I felt when I was rushing you to the hospital."

"What even happened?"

"Uh, remember? You got slashed through the gut and were spewing blood and almost died on me?"

"No, I remember that. Or… I know that. Dude, what happened last night? No one will tell me anything."

Scott paused. "Oh. I thought that's what Derek was going to your place to do. He really wanted to see you."

"Yeah, he stopped by, he's still on my bed. He said he'd tell me after school, but I want to know _now_."

"He's still on your bed?" Scott raised an eyebrow and grinned. Luckily Allison came into view at the same time. Lydia was standing next to her and they both smiled.

"Hi Stiles, hi Scott," Allison said, walking over to give Stiles a hug and to kiss Scott. She apologized to Stiles and reiterated that Scott was not supposed to have whacked him. Scott hung his head like a hurt puppy and offered to hold hands with Stiles all day to make him feel better, but Stiles refused, glaring at him for teasing.

"So, back to telling me about last night-?" Stiles prompted, now that they were gathered.

"Oh man, it was insane," Scott said, wrapping an arm around Allison's waist. "So we led them into that big pit thing, right? The one that's like a mile or so out? Derek had this whole crazy plan set up to trap them in there."

"There's a code among alphas and certain ways to deal with their disputes," Allison clarified. "But it didn't work, it turns out they're basically a gang of thugs, so hell broke loose way too soon."

Scott jumped back in. "There was a huge fight, but there wasn't supposed to be."

"The hunters we called got there on time, but the rest of it happened too soon."

Stiles cut in, "Wait, stop, go back! I need specifics."

"Isn't Derek going to explain it later? From your bed?" Scott asked, half teasing but half serious.

"Dude, just talk to me."

The bell rang right then and Lydia split off to go to her AP Calc class while Stiles and Scott and Allison headed for their first hour. It wasn't until lunch that they were all able to group together and Stiles was gifted with the greater details of what went down.

"When it comes down to it, you were the key part of the plan. That's why we had to lock you up," Scott began.

"Yeah, because that makes total sense," Stiles muttered, picking at his food.

"You were technically the bait," Scott started off, much to Stiles' continued confusion. "You and me. We took your clothes, the last hoodie you wore—"

"Ah! What? I was looking for that hoodie!" Stiles cut in.

"—your pants, some socks from your Lacrosse bag. Isaac dressed up like you and he and I led them to the big... hole. With the rocks…"

"The quarry," Lydia said, curtly.

Scott continued, "You wouldn't believe how fast they showed up. I had no idea they were out to get you. Not like that, I swear, dude. The whole pack gathered around above us, cause we were down in the quarry, and with the hood up they couldn't tell it was Isaac and not you. That's why we took your stuff, so he'd smell like you."

"Apparently a lot of these alphas were born werewolves, like Derek, so they're used to relying on scent. Plus it was dark and we had Isaac hunch over," Allison explained.

"Yeah. They were going on about how stupid you were for showing up and all the things they were going to… do to you..." Scott's voice trailed off and Stiles' eyes got big. He raised his eyebrows.

"Don't repeat that," Allison whispered, firmly. Stiles looked down at his plate and didn't push. She cleared her throat. "The idea was, they were definitely going to be most interested in one of you. We thought they'd focus on Scott since he killed their packmember, but it was almost entirely you. Four of them jumped Isaac before the rest of us could get them off. The rest of us had been hiding downwind."

"Yeah, so the rest of the pack showed up," Scott continued, "And Derek was supposed to evoked this ancient ritual right thingy they've got, but they were already going crazy. I mean, Erica got this guy off me and Derek and Boyd were just sort of wailing on the four that jumped Isaac so Jackson could drag him out of there. Allison's family started shooting… Everything was insane. I took on a couple of them, but I had this one bald guy jabbing his fists in my sides and he grabbed me by the leg. I hit a boulder and totally blacked. I saw Erica break the guy's neck from behind and that was the last thing I remember. And it's weird, it's like I can't heal as fast. I mean, I should be fine today, but I'm not. Anywhere one of those guys touched still hurts like I'm just a normal guy."

"Yeah," Jackson agreed. "It's the same for me."

"It's probably because they're alphas," Stiles suggested. "They must have some mojo that cuts off your healing ability." Allison beamed at him, and he felt a little bit better.

Scott went on, "Anyway, I blacked out after that guy threw me, but way before that Derek got that Isaiah guy. I think he was planning on splitting because he was hanging back, and Derek charged him and he literally ripped the guy in half. Straight through the middle. It was insane!"

"It was gross," Allison shuddered.

That actually made Stiles feel cold. He could picture Derek getting the upper hand, lifting the guy up and then literally tearing his body one piece from the other like some sort of rabid gorilla. He shuddered too.

Jackson cut in. "To be fair though, the guy was taunting him, he was saying all these things, mostly about you, Stiles. Like, I know you and Derek are together and whatnot—" Stiles' jaw dropped. Was there no one who assumed he and Derek could be friends without boning? "But that guy was… he was messed up. Derek lost it. He grabbed this old board that was down there, swung it at the guy—"

Scott jumped back in. "It kinda… how much detail do you want? It hit him in the stomach and knocked him over. He was bent double, then Derek walked up and grabbed him by his hair and he was like, 'He's mine!' and snapped the guy's back! And then he…" Scott made a motion with both hands of separating the lower body from the upper.

"He said what?" Stiles asked. Scott just shrugged. Stiles looked away. "No, what did Isaiah say?"

Allison reached out for Stiles' hand. "No," she cut off any elaboration. "He's gone now. He can't hurt you."

"What about Selena?"

"The chick?" Jackson asked, "Erica was going after her, and you've seen how tough Erica is, and that alpha knocked her out of the way like she was nothing. She walked over when Derek threw down the Isaiah guy, totally calm. She grabbed him by the throat, lifted him straight off the ground. I mean, she's tiny, but she lifted him clean off the ground."

"She was going to tear his throat out," Allison said softly.

"But then Allison here," Jackson smiled at her, "Shot about six arrows in her back. She was down like a light!"

"It's 'out' like a light, sweetie," Lydia corrected gently.

"Whatever," Jackson frowned. "I gotta go. I blew off studying with Danny." He kissed Lydia's cheek. "I'll be in the library, see you after class."

"So… she's dead?" Stiles asked, tentatively once Jackson had left.

"We don't know. Boyd survived more arrows once," Allison said. "Selena was the last one standing in the gorge and after she fell and let go of Derek I don't know what happened to her. Several of them got away. When the alpha hunters showed up I broke off from my dad and everyone to help out with getting the pack to Dr. Deaton's. I don't remember if I saw her again or not."

Stiles ran his tongue across the backside of his teeth. He nodded.

"Well, either way we won. Deaton bandaged us all up back at the clinic. That's where I woke up," Scott said, "And then I got filled in on what happened while I'd been out. That's about when Jackson and Derek went to let you out. I'd have come, but I couldn't walk yet."

The bell rang, signifying that lunch was over. Stiles started and glanced around the table. Everyone had this look of quiet triumph, but he couldn't help feeling like they'd just gotten lucky, like something was still amiss.

Lydia leaned over. "Everything turned out okay," she said, as reassuringly as possible.

Stiles plastered on a smile. "Good! That's awesome. I mean, I knew you guys could do it. Go team! I mean, pack."

On the way to class, Allison walked close to him. "It really is over, Stiles."

He smiled back, "I know! Never doubted it."

"You're just upset that you weren't there?"

Stiles tried not to let himself pause. "What could I have done?"

She squeezed his arm. Their next classes were a door apart, and she paused in front of her room. "Stiles…"

"Allison?"

"I don't know what… promise she made…"

"Who?"

She gave him a look. "Selena. She said something to Derek. I mean, what she said was, 'Too bad I won't be able to keep my promise to your kitty.' I know you're the 'kitty.' Scott told me she's been calling you that. But whatever the promise was, she can't hurt you now. Okay?"

Stiles blinked hard. With everything that had been going on it was hard to remember. He stuck on a smile again, hugged Allison, and slipped into his classroom. He spent the rest of the day doodling in the margins of his notebook, then tried to rush home before getting grabbed by the Coach and being reminded they had practice after school and that he was now able to join them again. "What a treat this is! The whole first line here for the first time in the whole goddamn season!" he chided, steering Stiles by the shoulders all the way to his gym locker then peeling off to lead warm-ups.

* * *

Stiles didn't make it home till late that evening. When he was through the front door his dad poked his head out from the kitchen. "Care to explain why Derek Hale was in your bed this morning?"

Stiles whipped around, considered, then, "Nope."

His dad frowned. "Stiles."

"He's just a friend! He needed a place to crash."

"In your bed?"

"I have a very nice bed."

"The guest room wasn't good enough?"

Stiles' brain cut out for a second. "…No?"

"Couldn't have maybe warned your old man?"

Stiles' head was shaking before he'd come up with an answer. "That I could not have done. No."

His dad sighed. "Well, fine. Next time you've gotta tell me though, Stiles. I asked him to leave and come back later when you're home."

"You talked to him?" Stiles dropped his bag. "When's he gonna be back?"

"He does know you tried to get him convicted of murder, right?"

"What? I didn—…Yes."

"Several times?"

"Yes, Dad! When is he going to be back?"

"I dunno. He might be up there now. He didn't use the front door like a normal houseguest."

Stiles glanced up the stairs. "Okay, just so you know, you are the best dad ever and I love you and school was great, now I'm just gonna run up the stairs and see if he's here."

"Stiles?" his dad called again when he was halfway up the stairs. He paused and looked back down. "You'll tell me the next time he's coming over, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Because I have nothing against him. It doesn't have to be a secret that he's here."

"Okay, yeah, great!"

He didn't wait around after that. He rushed to his room and flung open the door to find Derek seated at his computer, laptop open. He didn't glance over at Stiles. "Your dad's a good guy." Stiles let his shoulders droop, shut the door, then wandered over to sit on his bed, now nicely made. "It was kind of hard to hide all the bandages from him though, so now he thinks I'm in a gang. I assured him you weren't and promised I wouldn't drag you into it."

"Yeah, those scary Beacon Hills gangs. No way out once you get in. Life of crime. Thanks for protecting my delicate nature." Stiles looked over at him wryly. There were new bandages around his neck and arm, but they were showing bloodspots. "You're not healing," he observed. Derek didn't say anything. He closed the laptop before Stiles could focus on what he'd been researching. He turned the chair around and Stiles reached out for his bandaged arm, examining it. Stiles swallowed. "It sucks that I can't wolf-magic you like you did with me."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not." Stiles stared up at the five points of blood poking through the gauze around Derek's neck. "I know what the promise was."

"What?"

"Sissy said she was going to make me watch while she tore out your throat and shoved it up your ass, remember?" Derek tensed. "She was really serious."

"I see they already filled you in."

"Yeah I… couldn't wait any longer. I got the finer points out of Scott and Allison."

"So I could have just gone home then? Great."

"Don't lie, my place is better," Stiles replied. He placed his palm flat against the spot where the gash was still slightly bleeding on Derek's arm. "… If I could heal you, would you let me?" he asked.

Derek stared at him for a long moment, leaning back in Stiles' desk chair. "No."

Stiles ground his teeth. "Seriously?" He dropped Derek's arm, stood up and crossed his room.

Derek sighed, "Stiles… you _can't_, so what's the point? It doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Why… what? You're not a werewolf."

"You couldn't have just told me? Couldn't have just stopped and been like, 'Sorry Stiles, you need to hide out in your basement for a few hours while we go badassing across the countryside like Rambo's suicidal pop band?'"

Derek snorted, but regained his composure. "That… Would you have gone quietly and sat still if you'd known what was going on?"

Stiles scoffed. "No."

"See? There's your answer."

"But at least I wouldn't have panicked."

Derek's face softened. "I'm sorry."

"I'm still not convinced it worked out."

"It did," Derek replied.

"Then why did you lie about the New Moon thing?" Derek raised his eyebrows like he was feigning innocence. "Did you just think I wouldn't notice?... Oh my god. You did. You really think I'm that oblivious!"

Derek shrugged. "Can't blame me for hoping. Besides, all the evidence was in my favor." Stiles sucked in his cheek and shook his head, completely offended. Derek sighed. He heaved himself up out of the chair. It struck Stiles how pale he was as he walked over to where Stiles was standing, arms crossed. "I know you're not an idiot, Stiles. You're actually occasionally verging on genius. But last night only worked because you were safe. If any one of us had the slightest notion that you were in danger, it would have all fallen through."

"Everyone keeps saying that. _Why_?"

Derek shook his head. There was a long moment of silence between them, then Derek spread his arms. Stiles let himself be hugged, hooking his chin over Derek's shoulder. "I don't know. I know we haven't always been friends, but we are now. I just… have a strong urge to protect you. It's gotten out of hand, especially since that first attack. I don't know what it is. It's like you're the pack's…"

"…Mascot?" Stiles supplied.

"No. Troop mom?" Derek tried. Stiles laughed bitterly. "I don't know, Stiles. It's not because you're weaker or that I think you'd do something stupid, which, let's face it, you definitely would." Stiles shifted. "I'd just rather you were safe."

They were silent for a long while. Finally Stiles said, "How come we hug so much?"

Derek stiffened. "I thought you liked it."

"I do," Stiles nuzzled his nose into Derek's shoulder. "I like the hugs."


End file.
